


Call of the Siren

by kaynibbler16



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gen, mythology AU, siren au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaynibbler16/pseuds/kaynibbler16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her voice cut through the claps of thunder, beckoning him towards the enchantress that called him to her side. He must know her, this songstress of the sea. What fate awaits him through the storm?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call of the Siren

**Author's Note:**

> I was hoping this fic would only be a oneshot but it seems to have taken on a life of its own. Enjoy! :D  
> I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Wave after wave rocked the boat to and fro as the storm raged around him. His ship was not going to survive for much longer if he didn’t make landfall soon, but he knew that was a long shot at best. He was a dead man. So much for setting out to see the world.

The lightning lit up the sky, but it didn’t provide any better visibility with the rain pouring in sheets. He clung to the mast, knowing that he could no longer steer his way out of the storm. His father was right; the sea was a cruel mistress and would claim any man who dared to think he could best her.

As he made his last prayers, a voice penetrated through the thunder. It was so clear and resonant that he was instantly enraptured by its enchanting sound.

He rushed back to the helm, sliding over the wet deck as he grabbed the wheel and steered as best he could towards the haunting voice. The storm still raged about him, but he couldn’t see or feel it any longer, he could only hear the sound the song that drew him in like a moth to a flame.

The waves crash violently against his ship, but he takes no notice. All he needs is the voice to guide him towards the one to calling him, begging him to join them. No, to join her.

Oh, he must reach her. Must know the woman who calls to him so seductively; so lovingly.

A wave slammed into the ship, rolling it completely and the man was thrown into the frigid waters and unable to surface. The spell of the siren’s song was broken the instant he was underwater and it was too late to fix his fatal mistake. A strong current pulled him into the inky blackness and he could not hold his breath for much longer. He kicked and threw his arms out wildly around him in the feeble hope that he could escape his imminent death, but to no avail. The lack of air became too much for him and he sucked in a breath. Water flooded his throat and lungs and he lost consciousness.

~O~

Soft linens and the scent of fragrant flowers were the first things he noticed when he regained consciousness. The second was the not so hushed voices of several people around him.

“What if he’s an invader from one of the main lands?”

“I very much doubt he’s an invader.”

“Yeah, he’s much too skinny. He’d probably fall over under the weight of his own armor.”

“Don’t be rude, Donna. Besides, he’s not that bad to look at.”

“Oh, honestly! You lot are infatuated with this—this skinny streak of a man who could possibly be a murderer or a complete scoundrel!”

“Donna, hush! Now, if you lot can not keep your voices down I’m going to have to ask you to leave. My patient needs rest and a bunch of spectators ogling at him is not the first thing he needs to see upon first waking up.”

“Um, it’s a bit too late for that, Martha. He’s awake.”

The man opened his eyes and dizzily gazed at the trope surrounding his bedside. There were three women and a man, each starring warily at him. There was silence for only a moment when one of the women, who was well along with child, leaned down as best she could and introduced herself as Martha.

“I’m the local healer. A few of our friends managed to pull you onto shore after your ship broke apart in the waves. You very nearly drowned.”

“Oh,” he gasped out, throat stinging and parched.

Martha sensed his need without him voicing it, grabbed a pitcher, and poured him goblet of water. “Easy now. We don’t need a repeat of last night.”

He drank as much as he could before lying back onto the cot. The sound of waves crashing on a shore drew his attention to an open window, but he could only see the sky from that angle. He then looked upon the others gathered around him. Beside Martha was a red haired woman glaring at him with a critical eye; he figured she must be Donna. Looking towards the other side of the bed he could see a sandy haired man with a kind smile and holding the pitcher Martha had just used. And the only other person in the room was a beautiful blonde woman with soulful eyes that stared at him in curiosity.

He swallowed roughly at the intensity of her gaze.

“So, our mysterious sailor, who might you be?” asked the one he guessed was Donna, eyes still trained on his every move.

He winced as he spoke. “John. My name is John of Gallifrey. I’m a traveler.”

“A traveler?” asked the blonde, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Where have you been?”

“Rose,” Donna said, a warning in her voice. “Tell us, John of Gallifrey, why are you here? What are your intentions?”

“Donna!” Martha snapped. “I will not have you harassing my patient the moment he wakes up.”

“We must know why he is here and if he poses a threat to our people.” Donna retorted.

“And the elders are handling it. The poor man almost drowned, give him some time to recover.” Grabbing the pitcher from the sandy haired man, Martha set it on a little table near John’s bedside. “Now, let’s leave him be and let him get his rest. Rory, you’re in charge of his well being. I need to rest as well. Goodbye for now, John of Gallifrey. You’re in capable hands.”

“Thank you,” John barely managed to croak out.

Martha smiled and bustled Donna out of the room with her.

Only Rory, Rose, and himself were left in the room.

Rory asked him a few questions about how he was feeling and John answered as best he could; Rose hanging onto his every word, nibbling quite distractingly on her lip. “I’m feeling much better now.”

“I should imagine so. Martha has a gift when it comes to healing,” Rose said and John could sense that she meant something quite different than what he thought she meant. “You would have died last night had Clara and Jenny not saved you from the waters. They were exhausted by the time they pulled you up to the docks.”

“They swam out into a storm to rescue me? How could they have seen me in that darkness?”

Rose chuckled. “They excel at swimming. They did have a bit of trouble keeping your head above the waves, though. Said you were completely dead weight for one so skinny.”

John blushed.

“Anyway,” Rose continued, “Martha said you should be alright by noon. Isn’t that right, Rory?”

“I don’t see why not. Martha worked wonders last night. You’re very lucky, John.”

“Yeah, I get that feeling.” John sat up, head pounding a bit. The sheet tumbled down to his waist, exposing the naked skin of his chest. His blush darkened. “Um, you wouldn’t know where my clothes are at, would you?”

“The sisters are cleaning them with the rest of the laundry as we speak.”

“Sisters?”

“The Sisters of the Tree,” Rose elaborated, a mysterious smile on her face. “They mostly spend their day worshiping, but they do enjoy helping the village with some of the chores.”

“Oh.”

“But we have some extra clothing that should fit you just fine in the meantime.”

John nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get your rest now. There a still a few hours left until the noon meal. Try to get some sleep.” Rose gave him a gentle smile and swept out of the room, leaving John feeling oddly bereft in her absence.

“Is there anything else you need, John? Water or something to eat?” Rory asked.

“I’ll take some more water.”

John lied back down after several gulps of water and closed his eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep again.

When he next opened his eyes, Rory was shaking his shoulder. “John, you missed the noon meal, but if you get up now you can still make the evening meal.”

John got out of bed, surprised that his head no longer ached. He dressed as quickly as he could, pulling on the blue toga that was left for him. Rory helped him put on the sandals that came with the borrowed clothing. As soon as he was properly dressed, Rory guided him to the communal dining area and the sight that greeted John took his breath away.

Every fruit and vegetable imaginable covered several tables across the dining area, but that wasn’t what made the ground feel as though it had dropped out beneath John’s feet. It was the different kinds of creatures milling about or even flying overhead as the village ate their evening meal. Winged women pruned each other’s feathers as small children hid under their wings, hiding from their companions. A half-man half-horse greeted Rory as they passed and John felt as though he was drowning again.

“John,” the sweet voice of Rose called out to him. “Over here. We saved you a seat.”

Rory shuffled John over towards the table where Rose was sitting, hand grasping John’s elbow. “Rose, I don’t think he is used to seeing so many of our kind in one area.”

Rose’s eyes went wide with concern. “Oh, John, I’m so sorry. I forgot this isn’t common place outside of our island.”

“Commonplace?” John stuttered. “These are—are creatures I’ve only heard of in stories! They’re just myths and legends, but—but they’re real!”

Resting her hand on his arm, Rose rubbed soothing circles on his skin and John was distracted from his growing panic. Her luminous brown eyes glowed in the dying sunlight. “I’m sorry we didn’t warn you beforehand. Our island does not receive many visitors.”

Arrested by the combination of Rose’s eyes and her comforting touches, John calmed himself as best he could before speaking again. “It’s a bit overwhelming. How is this possible?”

“Well, like your people we too have our legends. According the myths, our people were all born from the Great Tree. When the tree had borne its first fruit a great storm thrashed our island and tore each fruit from the tree’s branches. Some of the fruit flew high into the air, carried on strong winds, and from them burst forth the winged folk. They are the masters of the sky.” Rose gestured towards the winged women now holding some of the children who had been hiding behind them, feeding them strange blue star fruit.

John watched as the children fed from the taloned fingers of the winged women, mesmerized by the dexterity of the women’s hands.

Rose continued on. “Other fruit rolled down into the forests at a galloping speed and from them our hooved folk broke free. They are the masters of the forests and guardians of our island. More of the fruit rolled right down to the sea and the fin folk burst forth. They are masters of the ocean and protect our waters. The last of the fruit landed in a nest of song birds and the song folk bloomed from the fruit.”

“Song folk?” John asked, suddenly reminded of the mysterious voice that lured him to the island the night before. “You mean sirens?”

Rose smiled. “You have many myths about them. Long ago, the song folk would lure ships to our island in hopes of bringing trade, but the sailors only wanted to capture them and sell them to the wealthy of their own lands.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It was. Over the years our people learned to fear outsiders and it was not unheard of for the song folk to lure sailors towards the whirlpools. You were lucky last night, John, because you almost sailed right into one. It was lucky I spotted your ship in time. If I hadn’t called out to you, well, I’m just glad your safe.” Patting his arm, Rose smiled up at him and he tingled all over. Oh, she was a very beautiful woman.

“Wait, it was you who led me out of the storm? You were the one singing?”

Biting her lip shyly, she nodded. “I am of the song folk. We do not call out to sailors very often now, but you are different.”

“Different? How? I mean, I was traveling towards your island by accident but I am also a sailor.”

Rose turned away from him and her voice became distant, almost cold. “You are not like the others, traveler. Your story is only just beginning.”

A chill went up his spine at her words. What did she mean by that? “I don’t understand.”

Rose turned towards him again, her eyes glowing gold. “There are dark days to come and we must all be prepared for the battle ahead. A darkness is brewing below the ocean waves. Something monstrous will consume our world if we do not stop it and you, Traveler, will be our champion.”

It was only when John noticed the lack of sound that he realized the entire square had stopped eating and talking and were watching Rose as she spoke. All of them were listening to her words with rapt attention as she continued her speech.

“When all hope is lost, the Traveler and the Wolf shall rise above and drive the Darkness back into the hellish depths from whence it came.” Rose had not turned her eyes away from him and the intensity of her gaze stole the breath from his lungs.

“Ro—Rose?” he asked so softly he could barely hear himself.

“Do not run from this fate, Traveler, or all will be lost. My Wolf will be your guiding light on this journey. Trust in her.”

Silence filled the evening air and no one moved until Rose blinked and turned to look at them. “What? What’s everyone staring at me for?”

A blonde woman wearing red robes with a large gold belt around her waist strode forward and addressed the crowd. “The prophecy has begun. The Great Tree has spoken through her prophetess to relay her message. We must begin preparations at once.”

There was a flurry of activity as people rushed about and the evening meal was forgotten. John’s confusion finally got the best of him. “Rose, what the hell is going on? What is this prophecy?”

Rose turned to him, apprehension in her gaze. “There was a legend from the early days of our people about a great Darkness and a mysterious Traveler who would drive it away. No one knows what the Darkness is or who the Traveler would be, but it was said that the Great Tree would awaken once more when they arrived. Your arrival means that the Darkness has also awakened.”

“But I can’t be the Traveler or champion! I—I’m just John!”

John stood up and prepared to flee when Rose reached out and grabbed his arm. “John, please. I know this must be overwhelming but you won’t walk this path alone. You’re forgetting about the Wolf.”

“The Wolf? You mean I have to defeat the Darkness and somehow not get killed by a wolf? This day keeps getting better and better.”

Rose frowned and stood up to face him. “The Wolf is not a wolf.”

“What?”

“The Wolf is the name for the mighty warrior that will assist the Traveler in his battle against the Darkness.”

“Oh,” John said, dazed by the onslaught of information. “So, who is this Wolf?”

“We don’t know. The only way to find out would be to consult the Sisters,” Rose said as she gestured for him to sit. “It’s about an hour’s walk outside of the village so you might as well eat before we go.”

John frowned at the food in front of him and felt a bit queasy. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Alright, but bring some food along in case you get hungry later.” Rose procured a napkin for John to wrap some food in. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about this. You didn’t ask for this role.”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Rose smiled sadly at him. “None of us do,” she said. “But we will assist you with anything you need. Please do not hesitate to ask. Anything you need.” Rose grabbed his hand in hers and looked up at him meaningfully, fluttering her eyelashes.

“O—okay.” John felt his heart stutter at the implication of her words. “I’ll do you—that! I’ll do that.”

Rose giggled at his slip and pulled him towards a path leading out of the village square. “Then we haven’t any time to lose. Come along, we must meet with the Sisters.”


End file.
